Fall of the Argosi (Spellslinger, #0.6)

by Sebastien de Castell

Eventually, though, I’d come to understand that the purpose of constantly devising plans was so that it became so instinctive that every time you walked into a situation you’d instantly work out multiple schemes to distract opponents or disable traps. After enough practice – and I mean a lot of practice – your thoughts speed up from a slow walk to a fast gallop. By the time you see what’s waiting for you in that theoretical room Durral had talked about, your brain would already be coming up with the means to escape. My arta tuco was never as good as his of course, and even he couldn’t keep up with Enna. But there were times when I slid into that way of thinking like it was . . . like I was seeing everything around me in a completely new way. A tree wasn’t a tree any more: it was a ladder that could be climbed; a barrier that could deflect a killing blow; a rough surface that could wear through rope if you rubbed against it just right. Sometimes it was as if the physical world disappeared and in its place were thousands upon thousands of tools and tricks, traps and evasions, all just waiting to be turned to my use. Of all the Argosi talents, however, arta tuco is the most dangerous. There’s a coldness to that way of thinking. People and animals start to look like nothing more than devices, and notions like dignity and decency can disappear altogether. Like with arta eres, the talent of defence, when you can become so obsessed with how best to wield a blade that you forget w...